


The blanket

by Diamante



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamante/pseuds/Diamante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock has been saved from a lunatic, Watson reveals his feelings for him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my Betas Serenity and Lilith.

The Blanket

Blue flashing light lit the gloomy streets and houses. It crept into corners that no beam of light ever illuminated. „Desolate“ was the only word fitting for this neighbourhood. Behind grey and damp fronts rats sifted through piles of waste for food. Foul water ran in rivulets along the curb. The houses with the shattered windowpanes were mostly uninhabited but in some of them life stirred.

They had brought Sherlock here, abducted in a heedless moment by one of the psychopaths, the likes of which he runs into regularly in his line of work.  
Tied up and gagged the detective had to spend three days in one of the decrepit houses until the police had finally found him. It had not been that big of a horror for Sherlock, maybe a bit unpleasant. The man had tossed him about a little, proclaiming wild threats but after a short while Sherlock just got bored with him. He could not gather the criminal’s intent, either. Maybe he was just some lunatic.

Sherlock Holmes sat on a staircase wrapped in a blanket somebody had put on him. Policemen swarmed the place, securing the crime scene, gathering evidence. “Why make a fuss?” he thought indignantly. They had caught the guy, the hostage was safe. Unconsciously he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders until he looked at the orange fabric, irritated. What was this thing for? He peeled the blanket off determinedly, dropping it to the ground.  
„I'm neither in shock nor am I cold.“ he thought. What was the benefit of wrapping a blanket around someone in this situation? Sherlock knew of course that the human body was prone to cool down under shock, but still, what were these blankets for? Nothing! Maybe the helpers got a better feeling by doing it. „Look, I got him a blanket.“

Sherlock laughed contemptuously. If everybody under shock would get a blanket the precious fabric would be scarce soon. „Oh your wife wants a divorce? Poor man, get a blanket! Money is gone? Here, have a blanket, quickly!“

The consulting detective spotted Anderson securing evidence from the crumbly facade. The input of this man usually was an intellectual disaster and put Sherlock in a constant kind of shock. Sherlock shook his head. The sight of this man would be worth a blanket, too.

A cab stopped behind the „Do-not-cross“ line and Sherlock knew without looking who would exit the car. A soft smile was forming on his lips when he heard the excited voice of John Watson debating with Lestrade and looking around nervously. The inspector pointed in Sherlock's direction whereupon John ran to his friend as fast as he could.  
„Sherlock!“, he cried. „Oh my god! What happened? Where have you been all this time? Are you all right? I was worried sick and so was Mrs. Hudson.“  
Sherlock looked at the agitated man with amusement without interrupting his rant. It felt so good to hear the familiar voice again and slowly the tension of the last days subsided. He closed his eyes for a moment...

„Sherlock!“ ...to open them right away. He met John's questioning look.  
„What?“ Sherlock asked tiredly.  
John watched him worriedly. „I said that I...I...“ He nervously combed through his hair with an unsteady hand. Then he slowly lowered himself to Sherlock's ear.: „Don't do this again, okay?“  
The next moment his lips touched Sherlock's and a surprised detective held his breath. He could not think properly for a few seconds, as if his brain had shut down. John's breath on his face and the scent of his aftershave were the only things he perceived.

The next thing he regretfully realised was that John did not kiss him anymore. He sensed his anticipation and knew he should say something but words deserted him.  
John cleared his throat awkwardly, a bit scared himself about his bold step. „I'm sorry if I... Well, I don't know what's gotten into me...“  
With a strangely hoarse voice Sherlock answered: „I need that blanket, now.“  
John fetched the abandoned cloth beside Sherlock. „I'm sorry....,“ he murmured once again.  
„Stop apologising!“ Sherlock grabbed John's sleeve and pulled him down a little. „The only thing I can't excuse is that you didn't do this earlier.“  
John sighed, relieved. Then he smiled and kissed Sherlock's forehead, slowly wrapping the blanket around him. „So we need to catch up a lot.“


End file.
